Past Featured Articles

What happens when a much used
hiking trail suddenly goes bad to the point of being unsafe and unusable? How
does the trail get fixed? Who pays for the trail restoration effort? How does
the restoration project get scheduled and who restores the trail?

Hiking trails can go bad for a number of reasons including fire and insect
infestation which can drop so many dead and dying trees on a trail that sections
become entangled in interlocked limbs. Trees that don't fall entirely can form
interlocked umbrellas of dead limbs and trunks such that over the course of
several years they impose a safety hazard as limbs, trees, or previously
suspended fractured trunk fragments work free and crash to the ground.

Although the
Scottish mountains are small by global, or even European standards, they pose a
specific set of hazards, not commonly found in mountains of similar stature. An
average of one-third to a half of all incidents requiring a mountain rescue call
out in this country are attributed to weather, as well as poor planning and
meteorological skills on the part of the people involved. In this article I'll
try to explain the specifics of Scotland's mountain climatology and topography,
and what effect this has on it's meteorology.

Yellowstone was the
world’s first national park, established to preserve the region’s thermal
wonders. It has more than half of the world’s geysers, mudpots, and fumaroles,
in a concentration unmatched elsewhere.
So, of course, the number one reason people give for why they visit Yellowstone
is . . .
the wildlife.
That’s a remarkable fact for the world’s most significant geothermal region.
The fact that even more visitors want to see the animals underscores the
remarkable wildlife resources in this magnificent park.

On August 12th 1805 Meriwether Lewis
approached the continental divide having finally reached the source of the
“mighty and heretofore deemed endless Missouri.” Fully expecting to see an
easy route down the Columbia River on the other side of the divide he was
naturally quite surprised to see more “immence [sic] ranges of high mountains
still to the West... their tops partially covered with snow” (Lewis 227). What
he saw were the vast mountains of present day Idaho. Crossing these “most
terrible mountains” (Gass 143) would be, for the Corps of Discovery, a
daunting and miserable task. Now more than 200 years later these same mountains
are intentionally sought out and conquered by climbers who view them as
recreational opportunities and not as obstacles to be feared and avoided. For
mountain climbers the “most terrible mountains” are now most
enjoyable.

Some of you,
and perhaps most of you if you leave in France, Spain or Slovenia, have heard at
least once about the problematic of the bears in Pyrenees.
Often, this topic is related by the medias, presenting both arguments and
versions from the two camps, the supporters of the saving of this animal, and
their opponents. Most of the time, relying on these medias, it is difficult to
figure make its own opinion about the topic, because of a lack of concrete facts
and information.
If you poll people in the street, almost everyone will say "I love bears,
they're lovely animals and I think they should be saved, but if I meet one I
don't know what I would do, so I understand also the cattle breeders !"
Following another approach, some other people, closer to the anti-globalism
political views, tend to prefer the opponents version, which sounds less "dreamy
ecologist" and closer to the local context and the reality. But often, also,
without any really concrete reasons.

Enlarge
Hurd Peak from Bishop Pass Trailhead
This article/trip report describes an outing in the Bishop Creek drainage with
my daughter, Alicia, and youngest son, Daniel. More than this, the article
touches on a theme that should interest anyone who includes immediate family
members on their outings. That theme is, how far do you push the envelope in an
effort to provide a memorable but positive outing? Where is the line between
providing them with a challenge and possibly endangering them? I don’t know
whether I have answers to those questions, but I will provide a context with our
recent experience.

The three of us have in recent years done a backpack in the Sierra Nevada every
August. Generally, we like to climb a peak or two while we’re out there. This
year, I decided on an outing out of Bishop Pass Trailhead at South Lake. I
figured we could climb Chocolate Peak, Hurd Peak and Cloudripper.

Mutinies have occurred since ancient
times when hunter-gatherers followed the alpha male until they realized that
continuing to follow would prove hazardous to their well-being, whereupon the
troupe either killed the old leader or simply abandoned him to his fate.
Thankfully, behaviors have become more civil, and the mutiny I experienced was
more an abandonment.

Evey year, when the "good" season comes, we can read about the
"killer-mountain", about tragedies on the mountains and (tanks to the power of
media) we can see "live" the spectacular (commercial) reports of a rescue (if
all is OK) or to the recovery of (more or less) unlucky climbers

And each time we must read and listen to the comments of the so-called
(bigheaded) "specialists": people speaking and passing opinions with no
knowledge about the sites and the situations of the accident and, basing on
theories absorbed from books and magazines, make judgements about the more or
less wrong behaviour of the unlucky climbers ...

Photography is all about light. That should be patently obvious to
even the most casual observer. In fact, let me submit to you that it is patently
obvious to the casual observer: Of the thirteen pages of photos I've posted on
SP, almost every one of the photos below appear on the first page. Almost
without exception, the remaining twelve pages of photos do not have particularly
notable lighting.

The
U.S. National Weather Service calculates a ONE-in-THREE hundred
chance that you or a family member will be struck by lighting sometime
during your lifetime.

Lightning bolts are extremely hot, with temperatures of 30,000 to 50,000
degrees (F). That's HOTTER than the surface of the sun! When the bolt
suddenly heats the air around it to such an extreme, the air instantly
expands, sending out a vibration or shock wave we hear as an explosion of
sound. If you are near the stroke of lightning you'll hear thunder as one
sharp crack. When lightning is far away, thunder sounds more like a low
rumble as the sound waves reflect off hillsides, buildings and trees.
Depending on wind direction and temperature, you may hear thunder for up to
twenty miles away.